Escape to Bleaker ! (19 - 21 December)

We have all wanted to visit Bleaker island - close to the mainland, with its own sheep (lamb for the bbq) and cattle (milk on a good day!). Finally,our chance to escape for a couple of days to stay at Cobb's cottage, and some peace and quiet. We flew into the settlemen ton Monday 19th in glorious sunshine. Elaine and Robert live here all year round, quite alone apart from visitors (and Mike and Phyl Rendell, who own the island, whenever they are able to escape their duties in Stanley).

Cobb's cottage is very neat and rural - red roofed, all alone and surrounded by green fields, pet lambs and goslings, with a view of the jetty, the sea, and the spectacular southern giant petrels soaring overhead.

After lunch we set off for the sea lion colony, 20 minutes from the cottage - a gentle walk along the coast and then across the island. Accompanied by double banded plovers (shore birds with feet that move so fast it is hard to see them - and the tiniest babies, running alongside (think less than half the size of a wren), magellanic oystercatchers (elegant, black and white dippers, with long red daggers for beaks - capable of killing the big horrible predatory skua by stabbing..), petrels (wingspan up to nearly 2m, fabulous creatures), and the horrid horrid skua - big, brown, ruthless, and always ready to eat someone else's baby.  The sea lions were fascinating - around 30 or so, flopping noisily on the flat rocks in the sun. One huge male,with a spectacular 'mane' and a selection of females and young. The male works hard to keep his harem - growing, barking, grumbling. An adolescent male stayed in the waves just off shore,bobbing and watching - and when he saw his chance, landed and lay at the end of the colony. The established male suddenly noticed, launched across the rocks - and in a split second, the younger male was gone - he didn't hang around to question; it was clearly not yet his time.
We spent a long time sitting and watching the social behaviour - it is addictive - incredible to realise that this other world,with its social complexities and environmental difficulties, goes on completely without our interference, and in general without our knowledge.

Back to the cottage; we had asked Elaine for a bbq pack ( beef steak,lamb steak,home made beefburgers, and sausages for each of us - no veggies here), and we set off for the bbq barn to cook our supper. Excellent bbq, and fabulous sunset views. Phoebe fed the pet lambs. We wandered down to the jetty and watched the cormorants diving. Wonderful day.

Day 2 and we decided to set off with a picnic for the north of Sandy Bay, where the gentoo colony live. Falkland Islanders are not reknowned for their imagination, and Bleaker proudly boasts Sandy Bay, Sandy Bay island, Pebbly Bay, First island, Second island and Third island. Mmm
Sandy Bay is stunning; white, massive, and empty, apart from lines of magellanic and gentoo penguins trudging to the sea (and hanging about; they set off to fish and then all seem to congregate on the foreshore for a bit of a chat - it's a bit like going to the pub I think). There are also a number of cattle, which seem a little surreal set next to the penguins, but they seem to rub along. We walked up to the colony, intending to have our lunch in the company of penguin chicks, and inadvertantly entered a skua nesting site. We were dive bombed mercilessly; these are big birds, and we had to duck and run, with Bill waving sticks above our heads to fend them off.
We picnicked a couple of metres away from the colony; ate our sandwiches and then wriggled forwards on our stomachs to watch the feeding and the impressive fending off of the skuas. Most gentoos seem to produce two eggs - so two fast growing and unruly babies to control. Gorgeous pale grey balls of fluff, initially the size of your fist, but within two weeks around a foot tall, and comical to watch. The parents stretch their necks to the sky and screech, defending their young. These animals fight hard and selflessly, but many eggs are stolen and babies killed.
On the way back, we found the rockhopper colony at the top of the cliffs, behind great mounds of tussock grass. These tiny penguins, about 30cm high, chatter constantly and are always busy, running, hopping, scolding. They are enchanting; a little society of their own, with their tiny babies just hatching. They bend over like little old people and scurry around, climbing up high cliffs, hop hop with their fish to feed their family.
Around the corner is the largest colony of King Cormorants we have yet seen. Thousands of birds, all sitting on nests of eggs or chicks. Beautiful elegant birds, with swan necks, irridescent blue eyes, and orange pom poms on their beaks. As they come in to land, they hover, brake with feet down and splayed,and drop their necks into an architectural arch. Inevitably, the colony is surrounded by skuas - but again, these birds are not only courageous for their own families, but for their community; we witnessed a group of birds squaring up to a skua in front of a single nest -a line of four male cormorants in a line a bit like footballers standing in front of the goal. They took it in turns to run at the skua - a bird two or three times their size.
Another bbq, another big sky, more feeding of lambs, and a quiet quiet night; no noise, apart from the waves, no light pollution. We have become accustomed to islands without roads, lights, cars, and generally without many people. We may need to be re-socialised...
Day 3 - proper Falklands weather - this morning it hailed. We went to the shop (!)which is Robert's store shed where he keeps two big freezers full of his meat. We chose our Sunday roasts for the next few weeks, filled up our cool box, and then wandered on the beach until the heli arrived. Back to normality..
  
u

Mare Harbour Trip - Saturday 17 December

Saturday morning saw Phoebe up and out of bed a lot earlier than she (or anyone else) might have wished as we joined our neighbours for a trip around the harbour – well, Gill & Phoebe did.  Everyone had to wait for Bill to escape from work before setting sail.

Actually, there was no sail to set and for the ‘harbour’ one has to envisage only a couple of military jetties (warships, for the mooring of) surrounded by wide open spaces, interspersed with some stunning beaches (actually, that’s a description of most of the Falklands).  The boat was no kiss-me-quick special either, but our very own landing craft (military designations being kept to ourselves for obvious reasons!) which had the advantage of allowing us to land without getting wet feet.

A short trip took us to Pandora’s Point and the chance to visit the Gentoo colony there.  Cue attempts by Gill to shoo the Skuas away from the chicks and the general debate as to quite why these creatures often insist on taking a much longer land trip from the sea than seems natural.  As ever, however, there was the general contentment that seems to be associated with watching a colony of these birds looking after their young and getting on with life.

Having re-embarked, our trip over to one of the small islands was diverted for some 45 minutes when one of the Search & Rescue helicopters spied the boat and took the opportunity to practise winching on and off a moving boat – deafening, but spectacular.  SAR practice complete, we landed on the relatively small Sniper Island which, we were assured, one could walk around “in 5 minutes” – obviously by someone who had not set foot on it!  The island, less the rocky foreshore, is completely covered by tussac grass well over head height.  The tussacs were, however, separated by well-worn paths which could only have been made by the resident sea-lions and seals and so there was not too much blind charging about the place (warnings of not getting between a Sea Lion and the sea being uppermost in our minds).  Patience was rewarded by finding a splendid young male Sea Lion and a curious youngster on the south side of the island, who then proceeded to swim around the crystal-clear water (being a typical Falkland day, we had started out prepared to get cold and soaked to find ourselves now in glorious sunshine).  In all a fascinating few hours of wildlife watching – and all some 6 miles from the house!

Saunders island (again for mummy!) 16th December 2011

This was a girly trip for both mummy and I as Bill unfortunately had to stay at work. It was quite a long helicopter ride in some interesting weather conditions and at one stage we were told we might have to turn back. However, we arrived and set off first in search of the albatross colony which we found about half an hour later. When we found them, they were sitting on their nests which looked a bit like sandcastles. They were so white and their beaks were very impressive. They were also quite curious birds as one or two of them came to have a look at us a few times. Mummy said that she saw a baby chick as one of the birds stood up for a second (the lady who owned the island thought that they would all hatch in the next week or so).

After the Albatross, we headed up the hill to find a colony of Rockhopper penguins who had chicks which were probably about a week old at the most. Unhelpfully, there were two sheep also in the middle of the colony who were having difficulty trying not to step on the chicks! The Rockhoppers have red eyes which are quite scary but when you lie down next to them, they will come and see what you are. They are also quite amusing when you sit for a while and watch them.

After the Rockhoppers, we went down onto the beach and had a picnic surrounded by the Gentoo penguins and their chicks. We also saw some Magellanic penguins which nest in burrows underground and are said to be covered in flees.

After lunch, we made our way back up to the helicopter, and on the way got dive-bombed by Skewers, (which are birds which steal eggs from penguins).

By Phoebe xxxx

Pebble Island 26 & 27 November

With only one weekend available before the 8,000 mile school run, we escaped to one of the Outer Islands for a short weekend – an extended day certainly felt much longer than the average weekend given the luxury of getting right away from it all.  Pebble Island is famous for the SAS raid on the airfield during the 1982 Conflict but it offers a great deal more.

Arriving late morning on Saturday we were greeted by Ken at the airstrip and Sharon in the Lodge and after the obligatory (and delicious) tea and biscuits, Ken drove us up to the HMS Coventry memorial before leaving us to our own devices.  The cunning part of this plan was that the memorial is sited half-way up First Mountain and therefore our walk would be largely downhill thereafter.  With the morning’s forecast of increasing winds and likelihood of showers high in our minds, we were not too disappointed to find ourselves in a strong wind and the chance of squalls in this exposed location but we did remain long enough for me to get the brasso out and give the memorial’s plaque a good shine.  (No, I don’t go on walking trips with a comprehensive domestic cleaning kit in my rucsac; all the memorials have an old ammo tin, or 2, nearby full of such things to spruce up the respective memorial.)

Typically, therefore, just as soon as we started down the hillside, the squalls disappeared and we had a glorious (if windy afternoon).  It was sobering to walk through the wreckage field of an Argentine Dagger (Mirage) but having our sandwiches above Magellanic penguin burrows, waiting for them to stick their heads out, was an altogether different experience; as was walking into a roosting colony of South American Terns – the noise and movement was spectacular!  The prize for persistency, however, has to go to the Magellanic Oystercatchers – definitely the watchmen of the foreshore with their very loud alarm calls and tireless efforts to distract you (we did also learn that these are the only birds that will kill skuas – given the carnage we know that these can wreak on Penguin eggs and chicks, our respect for these busy little birds has increased massively!).   A really pleasant walk way from everybody (there was a total of 13 people on the island!) past hundreds of Magellanic Penguin burrows and along part of the pristine sand beach (at 4 miles, the longest in the Falklands) got us back to the Settlement and the lodge – a very comfortable residence run by Jackie Jennings and Allan White (who was absent at their new home on Lively Island).

After a luxuriously lazy night and bumper breakfast we joined the other 6 guests on a drive out to the East end of the Island to see the sizeable Rockhopper colonies – shared with Imperial Cormorants at the top of some pretty large and spectacular cliffs.  These birds are real characters; they are not bothered by our presence, indeed, the penguins are curious little birds and will close up on you if you sit still.  Despite the continuing predations of the skuas and petrels, most still seem to have at least one egg and many still have 2.  Mixed in amongst them were also a handful of macaroni penguins (slightly bigger and with orange, not yellow, eyebrows) – so that is now all 5 Falkland species seen (don’t tell Phoebe!!).  The morning had started grey and overcast but by now it had all burned off and we were blessed with a really warm, sunny day with only a steady breeze – perfect conditions to sit out and watch the wildlife.  A short drive away we visited a number of Gentoo colonies – well inland and with the birds nesting in the diddle-dee (think small shrub).  These birds are more advanced in their reproductive cycle with most nursing 2 chicks (again, the Darwinian approach to evolution, given the constant threat from skuas) – small grey bundles spending most of their time tucked away under one or other of their parents.  Gentoos may not be the most ‘characterful’ of the penguins but it was especially relaxing to sit and watch (and listen) to the contented colony (except when a b****y skua flew over: all the adults stretched their beaks upwards and swore).

Lunch was had sat on the cliffs on the north  of the island after spending ages lying on slabs of rock half-way down them watching 2 large harems of sea lions sunbathing (approx 30 animals in toto) at the bottom – these are big animals, even from 40 feet above they are impressive!  After negotiating what seemed to be acres more of Magellanic burrows, a stop to look for Pebble Island ‘pebbles’ (agate: sadly for Gill, whilst I was able to find some, it will take quite a while to turn it into jewellery!) on one of the beaches punctuated the drive back.  After a race down the 4 mile beach (also the reserve airstrip) both of us jumped out to walk the final mile back in order to sneak up on a young male (or female) sea lion lying fast asleep on the bank of one of the inland lakes – although not far from the sea one wonders if he was geographically embarrassed!  Prudence ensured that we did not get too close, but it certainly did not seem disturbed at all!  Time then for a quick cup of tea before flying back to the real hub-bub of Mount Pleasant!

Back in England!!!

Hellooo everyone,

Back here at school, we are undefeated in netball, and have a lacrosse match this weekend! Mrs. H. is baking again for the lucky boarders who are getting the cookies every week. At the moment, we are working on a R.S. essay, about to be given an English essay, and have just handed in a History essay. Ahhh!

Christmas soon, and holidays!!!
Phoebe

Saunders island

Busy week with visitors, but yesterday I played truant; the heli had spaces,and I went on the post run, first to Mount Alice on West Falkland (the power station guys live up there miles from anywhere for months at a time,and we were delivering supplies and post, then on to Fox Bay (a large settlement on the West) and then on to Saunders Island .We were flying for over an hour, and at one point the typhoon roared past, waggled its wings and then flew underneath us! We landed on moorland near the main penguin colonies, and had 4 hours to ourselves. Mr and Mrs Pole-Evans run Saunders island - apart from them, the place is deserted - but it is quite a substantial island - probably 10 miles or so from their house to where we landed, with no road.

It was an idyllic day - windy as normal, but blue skies and warmth. The hole in the ozone is right above us here, so we do have to be very careful. We hosted the fusiliers for lunch last week, and they were all burnt like walnuts after a 5 hour yomp across the island.
It is about 40 minutes walk from the landing site down to the beach. As you reach and summit the hill, the 'neck' - a sandy beach joining two hills - stretches out in front of you, covered with hundreds of black dots - gentoos. As you get closer, you can see them running in and out of the water, flopping on their bellies, and jumping the waves.  On the side of the rocks, our first Rockhopper penguins (if you are reading this Phoebe - don't worry, I'll take you there). Tiny - 30cm or so, living happily mixed up with imperial cormorants who were busy plucking moorland to build their nests, the Rockhoppers are fascinating. Curious little creatures, jumping from rock to rock, up, up from the sea, higher up the cliffs, splashing in waterfalls and stopping to have a good look at us , with no fear at all. Sitting still for even 5 minutes brings a line of penguins trudging past your seat. Little red eyes and wild yellow eyebrows..and many have already laid an egg - the size of a chicken egg - and keep jumping off to check it's still there.
Further along the path,and the rockhoppers give way to.., albatross. This is what I came to the Falklands to see. Amazing birds. Calm, elegant, they are sitting on little mud sand castle nests which they have carefully built. From time to time they move and you can see a huge white egg. They are very much married; their partner arrives regularly, and they begin a preening routine which is gentle and meticulous. Their feathers are so clean; these are black browed albatross, pure white bodies, grey wings, and a kohl black line swept across the tops of their eyes.Their feet are a ghostly grey. Again,no fear, so one landed by my head and plodded up to me to take a look. Huge beak - a little intimidating,but no sign of aggression..and when they fly, their elegant slim wings stretch out so far. The wing span is huge - 2-3 m I think.
Down to the beach, and around 20 King penguins, looking terribly smart with their yellow throats. An old whale skeleton,and then hundreds of gentoo penguins. I sat on the beach and watched happy penguins waddling in and out of the waves as I ate my sandwich. A pretty good picnic spot.
I will be back!

Weaving and Spinning..

Another weekend gone, and what have we done? Well Monday was a day at Darwen. This is the small settlement just across from Goose Green, a place made famous in the conflict. A few white wooden houses amid fields dotted with scorching yellow gorse, and against the backdrop of deep blue sea.
Bonnie and Ken Greenland live at Darwen, with their sheep, ducks, geese and chickens. They own Darwen house, which is run by Graham and Fiona as a small lodge, and they run craft days (Bonnie) and Battlefield tours (Ken). This area is the site of much of the fighting,and round the corner from the house is the memorial to H Jones on the sport where he fell.

 Everything is having babies at the moment - there are fat lambs, tiny yellow and black chicks, flappy goslings, and they are all running madly around together. Bonnie lives by the water - it is an idyllic spot in the Summer -peaceful and away from everything.  Take a look at the pictures.. It is an hour's drive from Mount Pleasant Complex, so very popular for those wanting to escape and treat themselves to Smoko (Falklands version of Kaffee und Kuchen).
I am very proud as I have finally ventured out on the scary gravelly muddy roads. As it is Summer, this is really not a huge ask, but I am glad to have found my freedom, even if driving is a matter of holding your breath and acute concentration!
So yesterday, I was spinning - my second day. I am fairly unskilled, but sitting in Bonnie's outhouse with a group of friends, each with a spinning wheel, around a huge pile of shearings, is a wonderful way to spend a morning.
Lunch is soup made by Fiona, a stroll across the fields. The poor old sheep are sweltering with their winter coats,but the shearers are not due here until December. The NZ teams are travelling around the island, but it takes around 4 months!

After lunch, I left everyone spinning, and headed back to base as we had another visitor arriving on the airbridge. Everyone was on time,and my diet was put back another day as we hosted a small supper party.

Tuesday is admin, swimming, girlie coffees and lunch with the visitors. I have been doing a small amount of work, which is enjoyable, and am fairly busy with Army Family Federation stuff. Certainly not bored, and as yet not finding the time I thought I had would have to sew, make bread and sort our photos!
We have a night off from entertaining tonight - our house guest is eating elsewhere, so we just have to remember not to be drunk before he comes home.
Bill and the HQ are very busy with plans at present - not a spare minute - and the landrover is leaking diesel, so I will have to go and find someone to help...

Remembrance Weekend

A busy weekend inevitably - Friday was a service at the base, with the old gym full to capacity - clergy from the forces and from Stanley,and children from the school. Service personnel read personal tributes to colleagues who had died, or contributed reflections on Remembrance day. The last post, and lots of singing.
Saturday was work as normal, (while Bill is in the office, I have been very busy planting on my seedlings - this is not a hobby over here - it is vital - butternut squash will come from nowhere if not from my greenhouse...) and in the afternoon we headed into Stanley in readiness for the Services on Sunday. A blustery day,but bright,and we arrived in time to take the dogs down to Surf bay - a stunning white beach, angled so that the prevailing wind catches the waves and whips white surf into the air. The dogs were utterly excited as we spotted a huge dead petrel. This beach is one of the many cleared minefields, and it is amazing how little has been removed since the conflict. Amongst the dunes and tussock grass, we found old argentine tents, abandoned.

Saturday night was very exciting -we went out for dinner in the one hotel !! Very decent food, and civilised surroundings. We felt almost normal - until we returned to our posh portacabin on the Hillside base which is the army outpost in Stanley, and our accommodation when we venture over there.
Sunday morning found us in best dress and hats (both of us) at the Governor's house for 9am. Off to Church in a convoy,with the Governor winning the best hat (Remember Rex Hunt and those feathers?).
Back for coffee,and then off again to the Memorial and a wonderful view over the sea as we held the Remembrance service outside. Islanders and tourists attended, and I gave up on my hat - impossible. The Governor hung on to his, but couldn't move his head in case of disaster! We attempted to have a dignified exit in our cavalcade of Landrovers after the service, Governor leading, all of Stanley watching - but inevitably the dogs stood up in the car and stared back at the crowd, which amused and bemused in equal measure.

A reception afterwards in the FIDF (Local defence Force) Hall. Fascinating stories of locals who had grown upon South Georgia when whaling was still the big business down there. Now there are handful of people on the island - but 50 years ago there were still 1500. What an incredible place to spend your childhood.

Don, 90 odd, and the chauffeur for many governors, including Rex Hunt (I drove Maggie!) was a great story teller; a merchant seaman until he married, he left in 1943 to join the war, and  didn't return until a ship he was working on passed by in 1950. Married,and with children on the way (7 in the end!) he worked on the farms at Goose Green, and remembers Stanley in the 1950s with 4 cars. To get home from Stanley, he faced a 13 hour ride across the moors, using three horses - ride one and lead two, in case of exhaustion and lameness (horses were not shod as there were no metalled roads).
Finally home on Sunday, to get ready for the week, and drive out to Swan inlet for driving practice for me!

Busy !!

Remembrance weekend this weekend, so hectic - and a busy time over recent weeks- home for half term with Phoebe and apple pressing, and then back to real Spring time down here, and a long line of visitors  - sadly all military!
Highlights of the past week or two since coming back have been clear blue skies and sunny days, walks on the beach, and watching the dolphins. Commerson's dolphins are smaller than average, black and white (the soldiers who came to lunch yesterday saw some from their landing craft and nearly upturned as they rushed across to see the 'killer whales'!). Dolphins genuinely seem to enjoy playing. They rush in with the waves, nose to the very edge of the water, and just as the wave breaks, they 'tube' along it. I don't think this is fishing - just fun. All the animals are very curious,and when you are on the beach, seals and dolphins all pop up heads to see what is going on.

Last night we were at a British Legion reception at government house,and met Archie who has been with the British Antarctic survey, and is now involved with the government of South Georgia. He was describing the view from his office- snow ice and penguins. Some of the Antarctic Survey guys had just arrived back after sailing across in what I would call a very small yacht! - it apparently took 5 weeks, and having heard the stories of the size of the waves, I think they must be mad, but they seem to take it in their stride. I am told that BAG men are easy to spot because they always wear moleskin trousers. It was true last night at the reception,so I offer this piece of information to you as a future life changer. Leigh Anne Wolfaardt (see her website - her penguin pictures are beautiful) is an artist who works here. She is currently volunteering on South Georgia with a conservation group. they are trying to eradicate the rats from the island as they are very destructive to wildlife, and not indigenous, so she is spending two weeks helping to map and count. Not sure if we are going to get beautiful drawings of rats!So many of the younger people here have come to the island to study a specific animal, generally for the FI Government, or for the BAG, and then extend their time and stay to complete PhDs and enjoy themselves. it makes for interesting company..  

This week we have hosted MLAs (MPs) to dinner, as well as four British MPs who were down on a visit to the islands. Fraser  Nicholson, head of Air Sea Rescue,and a friend from Germany,has stayed all week, which was so nice. He was here for the announcement that one of his Flt Lts is coming to work here for 6 weeks in February..the confirmation of Prince William's tour apparently sent Government house into a spin as the press rang, emailed,faxed and generally bothered them all day. The hope is that he can carry out his normal job and have an everyday existence down here. I imagine he has more chance here of escaping the press than most places! The new captain of HMS Dauntless was also over with us this week - he hopes his ship will be ready to sail in a fortnight,and we should see him in March, to hear all his stories.Dauntless is around our waters to help look after us, but I think he will call into various South American and African ports before arriving in the South Atlantic.

We are off to Stanley now, to stay the night and attend the remembrance services tomorrow in the Cathedral. Camp Services were all here on Friday,so tomorrow will be about the islanders and locals. A number of veterans are in town - the start of the 30th anniversary celebrations. Four members of the Ardent association (sunk during the conflict) are with us, so tomorrow will be very poignant for them.

Getting into a routine of sorts...

We have been very lax at updating the blog, so now that I am captive on the airbridge again for oh too many hours to think about, I will try to remember what we have been doing for the last three weeks since leaving Phoebe at school.
What comes to mind instantly, is entertaining – lots of it – lunches and dinners – mostly at our house, but also Battle of Britain night in the mess – very RAF, wth low flying planes over the tables, a typhoon fly past (I tried so hard not to flinch as it roared up above us, but I failed miserably. It was SOOO loud) – and looking after house guests.
We seem to have established ourselves something of a routine; guests, whether the military or government variety, generally appear on the Monday flight and stay until the Friday, with Supper on Monday, a dinner on Thursday, and bits and bobs inbetween as needed. Will I ever manage to be sociable at breakfast? Not sure. In addition, we seem to be fitting in a regular lunch, to give the spouses (not actually all ladies – three house husbands and counting..) a chance to meet new people, and to guage the feeling of the community.. Friday lunch times are becoming the day for Section lunch, with 15 or so from a specific dept. enjoying food other than mess rations for a change, and having the opportunity to talk shop in more relaxed surroundings.
We are, as you can see, running a small hotel, and Marc who copes with the cooking almost single handedly, is doing a good job. He sometimes looks as if steam may be coming from places other then the oven, but always declares himself to be fine, even in the face of ‘an extra one’ or the inevitable vegetarian who slipped through our screening! I contribute the odd biscuit or cake and try to control the few evening meals when we are on our own, in an effort to rebalance the huge quantities of lamb and beef and food in general!
Everyone works a 6 day week on island, and with our house so rarely our own, free time is precious, but we have managed to escape to try a spot of fishing. Bill caught our tea on a beautiful sunny afternoon down at Swan Inlet. Archie was utterly confused by the small colourful thing that was swishing through the air into the water, but which he was not allowed to chase. Even more frustratingly, he was not allowed to gallop after the splashing fish, so I’m not sure he will be keen to come fishing again!
On Thursday, Bill managed to fit in time to explore the islands a little; we headed off by Landrover towards Darwin, and took the Newhaven road down to the newly built (2009) ferry port. This allows a regular ferry (the Concordia) to run between East and West Falkland, as well as support the islands; around 16 miles, and a 2 hour, regularly ‘interesting’ trip. We will try to make the jump for a few days at Christmas, but this time we just visited the very tame penguin colony which lives by the port, and watched the sea lions fishing for their lunch in the kelp forest. They porpoise up and down just like dolphins, and are magical to watch.  On the return trip we stopped for coffee at the Goose Green cafe - not quite Starbucks, but very much more welcoming! - and went to visit the Bodie Creek suspension bridge (the southern most such structure in the world - and soon to be not so much of a structure given the amount of corrosion) and the Argentine war cemetery at Darwin.
This weekend, we ventured to Race Point Farm at Port san Carlos; the weather had been gruesome on Saturday, and the roads were closed again. I was convinced that we were going to lose our roof on Friday night - but by the afternoon the driving restrictions were lifted. We headed out on the Goose Green road, and turned right towards San Carlos; about 37 miles over rough roads, but only a few bogged areas. The drive took us 2 and a quarter hours, and once we had lost Darwin from our sights, we saw very few houses – Greenfield Farm, high up in the hills, and Wreck Point House, Head of the Bay House at San Carlos Water, and the three or four houses which make up the settlement – and then miles and miles and miles of beautiful, desolate moorland, winding inlets, and sheep.. Lambing has begun, and tiny lambs jump out from the diddle dee bushes and run in front of the Landrover. We finally arrived at Port san Carlos settlement – three houses, and a couple more over the hill. John and Michelle Jones put us up in their cottage, and cooked a fabulous supper. Donna and Michael from over the hill came in to say hello, and we ended up chatting until Talia, their six year old declared bath time at getting on for 10. There are no other children in the settlement; Talia goes to school with two ‘local’ children within an hour’s drive. The teacher lives at Talia’s house one week, and the other children come to her, and they alternate so that everyone has a week at home (apart from the teacher!). Once she is 11, she will go to Stanley and weekly board along with the rest of the Islands’ children. These are independent, sociable children, who have complete freedom to roam safely for miles, and complete confidence in the company of adults. They understand the countryside, and their matter-of-fact approach to the realities of farming life is refreshing.
There is no light pollution this far out; the stars came right down to the horizon, and the Southern Cross shone brightly, with the Milky Way washing across the sky. A beautiful clear night dawned into a misty Sunday morning , and once the sun had warmed the air, it was a perfect day – and magically still. We walked to the sea; the gorse is popping, the diddle dee is coming into flower. You would not have wished to be anywhere else. The bays here have huge mussel beds very close to (or sometimes at) the beach. The birds here gorge themselves on huge mussels, and the beaches are a litter of broken shells.
We were sad to leave – especially after Michelle’s lunchtime chocolate cake – but the drive back was fabulous. We drove high up into the hills and looked back at San Carlos bay; the deep blue against the acid green and yellow of the moorland. We could have stayed much longer, but we were headed home to skype Phoebe, who had spent the day in Bath, and was delighted to have found her favourite mango sorbet ice cream !

Back to Mount Pleasant

So, back to our freezing windy base in the South Atlantic – but joy of joys, it was thinking about Spring as we returned home (just thinking mind you!) – only odd flurries of snow rather than metre drifts, and blue sky could be spotted. All this gave us hope that the helis would fly, and on Sunday, we were able to fly up to Volunteer point – the headland on the far north-eastern tip of East Falkland. Dropped mid morning, the heli disappeared, with the ranger pointing in the direction of the beach, and telling us to be back at 3.30. Phoebe was amused to see no landing area – just a field – the crew open the loading door as you near the ground, and appear to point to the least boggy bit to land on – very technical !
Heavy rain might have put a damper on this expedition– only a small portacabin for shelter – but we were in luck – cold but sunny all day, and the wildlife had us utterly gripped. The beaches here are pure white – caribbean white – and the sea is clear azure – with crashing waves straight from the deep Atlantic. The constant wind, catches the white horses and tosses the spray high into the air – quite magical.
There are massive kelp beds off the coasts here – as large as forests – feeding grounds for seals - and the kelp washed up on the shore is impressive – some metres long, with individual strands 30+ cm broad. My current favourite is basket kelp, which produces what can only be describes as huge wicker baskets of roots washed up on the shore – presumably used in the past for storage.
Anyway, back to the wildlife – hundreds of busy sandpipers as ever, magellan oystercatchers with their dinner suits and red eyes, and the pretty two banded plover which runs up and down jumping the waves like a toddler. Big fat flightless steamer ducks sit on the shore line and paddle about in a waddly way. Gulls are of course ever present. But more interestingly shags, cormorants, and petrels, elegant with their slim and angular wings, skimming the tops of the waves, and dropping dramatically to fish.
The high point of course, in this place, is the penguins. Two types here -the two key all-year residents; Gentoos – medium size, black and white, with orange beaks, and King penguins – tall, fabulous posture, with that impressive slash of orange across the face. They plod with a mission, beaks in the air, like old fashioned policemen, whereas the Gentoos busy around, shoulders hunched to the wind.
Such is our ignorance that we were amazed to see babies – HUGE balls of brown feathers. We were told that babies hatch at Christmas – what we didn’t realise was that the King penguin breeding cycle is 12 months; at this time of year the babies are 9 months old, and kept all together at on end of the beach in a creche, while the parents go out to fish. There were hundreds of big brown bodies, patrolled by perhaps 20 or so adults, and from time to time a group of parents would hop out of the sea, plod deliberately up the sand, and find their chick (how?) to feed it. The chicks are feisty now, and chase the parents for more and more food –it is 100% better than TV ! On this one beach, there are perhaps 3-400 King penguins, plus chicks, and probably double that number of Gentoos. Fabulous photo opportunities, because nothing runs away !
After our many cancelled trips before the holiday to Chile, we were determined to make the most of the last week before school, and so after a quiet day on Monday, we took up Jenny Luxton’s kind offer to visit Sea Lion Island (Jenny manages the island). It is vital for Bill to understand how the islands and islanders operate, and this was a fabulous opportunity to see one of the more remote areas. Sea Lion Island (atlases out please) lies to the South of East Falkland – below Bleaker, and the last land before the Antarctic (apart from the tiny landmass of Beauchene 30km further on). Jenny runs the lodge in season, which is just about to start – and she looks after birdwatchers, photographers, National Geographic teams, and general tourists, sharing her deep knowledge of the wildlife and the island. Sea Lion island is 5 miles long, and 1 mile wide at its broadest point. It is flat as a pancake, and the wind whistles over it. Her team, who all live in houses on one corner of the island, are her three chilean house staff – cooks and cleaners – and Maurice the handyman, who grew up on New Island, and has not lost the art of turning his hand to anything (as indeed is true of most islanders - I imagine as our grandparents or great grandparents were able to do, and as we now so clearly cannot.) These area a group of impressively unflappable and self reliant people. They must also have fair level of tolerance rto live so closely together with no one else on the island. They all arrived to eat with us, along with Felippo, an italian professor, who has spent the 4 months of the Elephant Seal breeding season here for the last 17 years. He and his wife Simone work at a university in the US and are world experts on Elephant Seals. Fascinating dinner conversation. He recognised every seal, knew its age and its history. Elephant Seals live to around 20, and come back to the same spot every year.
The island is lucky to have a spring fed by rain water running off the sandstone –and they have a generator, a wind turbine, and a massive veg patch. Everything is home made, and nothing is wasted. On one side of the island, they have recently installed a winch lift from a deep cove, allowing goods to be delivered in by ship – and there is also a grass landing strip outside the lodge for FIGAS tiny aircraft, which run rather like taxis round here.
So as soon as we could, we were off to the beaches; we could see the colony of Gentoos from the lodge windows, so we were after more impressive fare today…from September onwards, the Sea Lions and Elephant Seals start to return to breed. We found three huge males – perhaps 5m long, great blubbery masses (they stay on land for 3 months now until they mate, and eat nothing, losing around half their body weight, so we were seeing them at their largest). But huge as they were, they still had those adorable seal eyes, and a rare gentle look about them as they waved their flippers at us –although when they trumpeted, the reason for the name became clear -and of course their trunk – like noses, which only the males display, and only after 5 years or so. Soon, the fighting will start amongst the males – the scars were very evident, and Jenny reported watching Seals rearing up, dripping with blood. There were also a couple of females – half the size, beige in colour, and much more pretty and seal like. The next day, we found double the number, and Jenny assures us that harems of 60-70 females will appear. There is a birthing pool across the island, and this is where the Orcas come later in the year – they have two pods which return annually, of 4 and 5 whales – and they take 4 or 5 seal pups each year. You may remember the National Geographic documentary.
On the other side of the island, the Sea lions were also arriving – we found two lying in the massive tussock grass. These are the chaps to be wary of – they are great solid creatures, with necks as thick as the trunk of a man, and they can reputedly move as fast as a galloping horse if necessary. It is extremely inadvisable to get between a Sea Lion and the sea. Felippo had stories of seal bites, which would certainly concentrate the mind – but then he is attaching satellite receivers to them….
The tussock grass is vital to knot together the dunes, and it gives the island a tropical look. Davies, sailing past in the 16th century, reported that palm trees covered the island, and from a distance, it does take on a Caribbean look – until you put a toe in the water..
What else did we see? Peregrine Falcons, hundreds of Upland Geese as normal, but also the rarer Ruddy Headed Goose. And around 20 Striated caracaras, along with a sole pair of Crested Caracaras. These birds are impressive birds of prey, with a no nonsense beak and set of claws. Their local name is Johnny Rook – they are magpies by nature – curious collectors of shiny things, and spectacular thieves. These are sizeable, powerful birds who actively seek you out and watch you like a spy. You are ill advised to turn your back on them – they often wallop you on the back of the head, just because they can. They are wily, and hunt in pairs or packs. They eat the Upland Geese – these are birds as big as a large British Goose – bringing them down between two of them. And packs of 6 or so will bring down and eat a sheep. Maurice had tales of watching the drama as a boy, where Caracaras group, split and select a sheep before downing it.
We didn’t want to leave Sea Lion island – it was a heavenly escape from the reality of 24 hour army camp - and we were nearly stranded; the heli is sadly not there for our pleasure , and only picks us up on duty routes, so when it was called to stand in for the Air Sea Rescue heli, we had to wait for a few more hours – not a real sacrifice, although a slight heart flutter, as we were hosting a dinner party that night, and arrived home about an hour before the guests!
Pottering days now, before Phoebe and I head back for the school run – first day back Wed 7^th. It will be another world.

The High Andes

Monday saw us, well Marketa actually, load up the 4x4 to take us to the Altiplano lakes.  A 125 km drive south gave us yet another appreciation of the scale of the salt flats and, as we climbed the mountains (still in the vehicle – you will be getting the sense of our level of adventure) in the south east we could also get a sense of the scale of the lithium extraction plants at the southern end of the flats.  These facilities occupy a huge area – from a distance of 100km at the same level (i.e. from San Pedro) they appear as a white smudge on the horizon, which are actually the vast evaporation areas (apologies to readers for my limited span of adjectives in conveying the scale of everything in the Atacama).  It seems that (in this, one of the most arid regions of the world) lithium (and other minerals) is extracted through dissolution in water and recovered after evaporation in giant evaporation flats (scores of acres large).  [All this occurs in an area in which 96% of the natural water flowing off the mountains evaporates; it is perhaps unsurprising to learn that it is an environment very much on the edge.]

The Altiplanic lakes are at some 4, 300m ASL and, boy, could we tell.  Maybe it was due to the intense cold (wind chill taking the temp to significantly below Zero despite the bright sun) and wind but one rapidly became light-headed if doing anything other than walk steadily.  As ever, the scenery was astounding: bright lakes glistening in the sun and wind, surrounded by towering peaks, but set off by a very heavy covering of drifted snow, although now mostly ice this had drifted up to 2m in places.

At this altitude there were small herds of vicuna – one can only imagine that their wool is a good insulator and wind break!  Lunch was an ‘interesting affair’: a delicious picnic, complete with tables, chairs, wine glasses etc – and all perched on the edge of a 30m gorge and in a strong wind; one was not tempted to lean too far back in one’s chair in case of distracting the rock climbers below by falling past them!

The High Andes theme continued on Tuesday with a visit to the geysers at Taitio – the highest geyser field in the world at some 4,200m.  The particular highlight of the day was the excessively early start (0530 hr departure) but we revelled in the fact that with our own guide we did not have to join the larger tourist tours which start at 0400 hrs.  An ‘interesting’ drive for some 1½ hours through the dark, debating which is the worst: Chilean or Falklands roads (there is little in it) and attempting to avoid frozen snow drifts (in the middle of the high desert) brought us to Taitio just before dawn.

The temperature was –11^oC (and this with no wind) but that did little to detract from the impact of the place: dozens of fumaroles in a vast caldera, all producing differing quantities of steam, making the place positively Dante-like. (The best time to appreciate the spectacle is at dawn when the temperature differential allows the steam to be seen at its best – obviously as it is getting light, too! – and before the sun rapidly warms the air to lose the effect.)  The 3 of us must have spent over 1½ hours admiring the pools of boiling water (another physics lesson here:  altitude = low pressure = low boiling point; more groans from Phoebe as she desperately tried to avoid thinking about education) and columns of steam, whilst the other tours all seemed to disappear with the appearance of the sun.  (Either their guides were vampires or had pressing schedules to keep.)  We, on the other hand, enjoyed a leisurely breakfast with hot chocolate heated in a geyser before venturing down the mountains to appreciate the spectacular scenery we had missed earlier in the pitch black.  We did the obligatory tourist stop on the way down at a small hamlet to sample barbequed llama  (at least that’s what we were told it was, it could have been decent lamb – either way it was good; although Gill took a greater liking to cheese empanada – think deep fried cheese pancake and you begin to get the idea!).  After all this exertion it was only fitting that we spent a couple of hours before lunch in a hot spring a few km above San Pedro – sheer luxury in pleasantly warm water in a series of pools at the bottom of a gorge.  (The only drawback being that it had been developed by one of the larger hotels in San Pedro – but we are not talking spa luxury here; we had to bring our own fluffy towels.)

Having got up earlier than was good for any of us it was only right that this was the only night that we could go star-gazing.  Despite our concerns that none of us would stay awake, we all found the 2½ hours of introduction to the stars, the zodiac, the Milky Way and the opportunity to view the same through a series of telescopes to be absolutely fascinating.  With some of the clearest skies in the world, it was a total revelation (to the extent that what I had assumed to be light pollution from San Pedro was actually astral light – mind-blowing!).  The Canadian astrologer was a mine of information and help – e.g. the constellation of Sagittarius (Phoebe’s sign) is a tad difficult to locate if you are looking for a half man/half goat thing but when you look for a ‘teapot’ it jumps out at you!!

Having come only to visit Chile, we could not turn down the chance to add some more stamps to our passports by visiting Bolivia – well, the smallest corner of said country closest to San Pedro (about 50 km as the crow, or Andean equivalent, might fly) but rather further by road.  Initially a very good quality international road, full of car transporters carrying second cars to Paraguay (mostly from Australia – they are still good value even after transport and conversion from RH to LH drive!) and then back on to the tracks.  Whilst the border post may not be the highest in the world, but at 4,500m it cannot be too far off, it probably counts as one of the more windswept and bleak.  As Chilean vehicles cannot take tours into Bolivia (and v/v) we transferred to a 4 x 4 to take us to Laguna Blanca and Laguna Verde (bright turquoise on account to the magnesium) – both marvellously attractive high altitude lakes (at the standard tourist altitude of 4,200m); the latter being 2/3 frozen but still with a number of flamingos grazing happily on it.  Although the sun was intensely bright, the wind put us off having a dip in the thermal pool on the edge of Laguna Blanca but we made up for this with the number of photos taken – this really was typical high-Andean landscape: huge tracts of space, surrounded by the peaks of (largely) extinct volcanoes.  We could almost have been on a ‘real expedition’ given the remoteness, but we left that to the backpackers who were all on dodgy 4-day trips to/from Bolivia.

Our return to Santiago was almost mundane after the previous week – marred only by the inevitable delay to the flight and excessive (and nail-biting) wait for one of our bags and the threat of major demonstrations in central Santiago.  We saw the latter – but only on TV – and they had no effect on us as we visited the Bohemian Quarter of Bellavista for dinner.  Our final day in Chile was occupied with spending far too much time and money shopping for beautifully soft alpaca scarves, shawls and sundry other goods to cram into our otherwise full bags for the trip back to the Falklands.  With a 0615 hrs check-in, you can imagine the general enthusiasm of the Aldridge family on the Saturday morning; a state of mind only improved by the late arrival of our taxi at 0605 hrs (for a 20 mile trip – we arrived within 25 mins…).  Naturally, it was all worth while when we had to wait a further 1½ hours when our plane was declared to be unserviceable – at this stage, Phoebe was beginning to speculate about missing the return to school but sadly for her LAN Chile are not totally inefficient (whilst the Argentines are Italians who believe themselves to be British, the Chileans are rather more Germanic in their culture..) - they got us back to the Falklands well in time for tea!

A Busy Weekend

OK, so the problem with a blog is that you have to keep it up to date – not so easy when one is either totally chilled out, or busy preparing for the next adventure.

Saturday morning was spent trekking (no, let’s be honest, it was walking with a little purpose) down an inspiring gorge, full of tall and aged cacti (apparently they only grow c.1cm a year and most were well over 2 –3 m in height). What was even more amazing was that a lot of water was flowing in the stream, which goes on to feed San Pedro, making for a wonderfully green paradise of cacti and pampas grass deep in a gorge often 20-40m deep and frequently only a few metres wide. One thing is for certain that we would have not been likely to have found it if we had been on our own and even if we had, there would have been no vehicle out in the middle of the desert to collect us after a 2-hour walk. The cacti only grow at a certain altitude and it was telling that we were not really acclimatised to the height above sea level, starting at 3000m ASL we were all a little light-headed (and not just from the wine the night before).

In the afternoon we gained something of an impression of the vastness of the salt flats, at the north end of which San Pedro sits by driving south to Laguna Chaxa, which is sat somewhere towards the centre and which took an hour’s (rapid) driving to reach. Don’t think Utah salt flats and precision-smooth surfaces for land speed records, the centre of this place resembles more of a ploughed field. Close examination reveals that the clods of earth are, in fact, salt crystals – extremely big and extremely hard and the upper manifestation of salt deposits that are almost 1.5km thick! The lagunas themselves are the places where underground rivers reach the surface and feed these intensely saline lakes which, incredibly, support flocks of flamingos – most of which stayed sensibly away from the tourists, preferring to send one or two single ambassadors to preen and strut in front of the crowds. The colours generated by the setting sun were truly spectacular, set off by thousands of acres of yellowish salt flats.
Perhaps predictably having come to one of the areas of clearest sky in the world, our attempt to go star-gazing at a local observatory was cancelled on account of a big cloud bank sitting over San Pedro all afternoon. Naturally enough, the cloud had gone by evening!
　

Summer arrived in Chile on Sunday morning – at least according to the Government who instituted an early move to Summer Time, at least putting us back onto Falklands Time. Correctly judging our propensity for action, Marketa our guide and hotel owner sensibly suggested a 10am start. Our Sunday morning stroll took us down through ‘ Death Valley’ (or more aptly named by the Belgian priest who really established San Pedro: the Valley of Mars, which it resembles more than the Valley of the Moon might have lunar pretensions). This awe-inspiring rift in the ground literally opened at our feet to reveal jagged rock formations and vast sand dunes. The slide/surf/slip down the dunes to the bottom of the valley was not so much a method of transport as the means of moving huge quantities of sand from the top to the bottom; largely by means of filling our boots.

The second compulsory tourist activity of the day was a gentle horse trek (always a good idea when one’s daughter is allergic to things-equine). Anyhow, Chilean Health & Safety kicked in again and Phoebe, who has never really ridden, was hoist up onto an, albeit docile, animal and expected to follow everyone else (helmets and back-protectors: what are they???). As might be expected, she coped admirably and we enjoyed a gentle plod through some of the back streets and a neighbouring village, before cutting back across the desert in a serious series of minor sand storms, all very unusual for this time of year and blotting out the mountains all around us. If anything, it made the undertaking that bit more ‘adventurous’, and us even more grateful that we are staying somewhere with a shower. Of course, it also blotted out the next attempt to go star-gazing.

Friday August 19th

No escaping the physical exercise today. Bill's excuses were all used up, and without further ado, we were given bikes and told to cycle across a salt flat. Easy, I hear you say - it's flat, isn't it? Well yes it is, but cycling through a few inches of heavy sand is not my idea of a lazy morning. By the time we arrived at our destination 17km down the road, Phoebe was wondering if she would ever stand straight again. (Mind you she had been given the bike with the adjustable saddle, but with no movement in the handlebars, so she was at a very odd angle. Bill and I looked upon it as character building, and children are very flexible aren't they?).
Anyway, it was all worth it. Laguna Cejar - a deep blue salt lake in the middle of the salt flats, fed by underground tunnels running down from the Andes. Clear COLD water, full of krill. Salt crystals for a beach - incredible. All the other visitors were in their North face best (It is Winter here), but the Aldridges were determined to swim in this beautiful place. It has to be admitted that Bill got in first, and managed to float (more salt than the Dead Sea), but I did launch myself finally, and stayed in for at least 2 s. It was the coldest water I have EVER experienced, and I was momentarily unable to speak which has given Bill some hope for the future.  Having witnessed this tomfoolery, Phoebe sensibly tested the water to knee level and agreed that it was jolly chile (in joke).

Back to the ranch for lunch, and then a short dip in the hot tub (we like to look after ourselves a little), but no dozing under the cactus for us. We headed off to the Kari Gorge to walk through the most impressive salt formations. Tunnels, arches, caves, and simply massive and weird crystal conglomerations (have just put this in to make Phoebe laugh - she is merciless at my attempts to describe the stuff we have seen).Salt crystals growing in lines, bulbs, sheets - formations akin to the Giants Causeway, cathedral - like pillars - just fascinating. The crystal walls crack and groan like heating pipes, expanding and contracting as you walk through the gorge, and the rock sounds weirdly hollow. I am sure that GB health and safety would have a field day here. It would all be behind a big yellow fence before you could say chilean volcano..but we were OK-we dodged most of the sharp bits, and ducked when the bigger bits fell off unexpectedly; the problem with lack of water (and then unexpected rainfall), and constant freezing and thawing is rather an unstable environment. The best thing of all is that we do not seem to meet anyone esle on most of our hikes - we have much of this amazing place to ourselves..

Thursday 18 August

It must be a sign of age (or an inflamed achilles tendon – symptom of the same condition?) but the real adventure might be on temporary hold.  We elected not to ‘do’ the short/gentle 2 hour hike that our all-included/inclusive stay had organised but rather to be driven out to see the ‘Rainbow valley.
An hour’s drive out across the desert to our North took us to a particularly broken area of this vast panorama in which it is extremely difficult to gauge distance or scale – from the higher points (c. 3,000m) one can see at least 100km to the south across vast deserts and salt flats to the ring of volcanoes and mountains that are the real Andes (and the border with Bolivia and Argentina.  The scale is such that San Pedro feels as if it is right in the shadow of the main volcano of the region (border with Bolivia), yet it is 45 km distant.
En route to the Rainbow valley we stopped in the approach valley and wandered up a llama track (actually at this altitude one does not really ‘wander’ when you have come from living at sea-level!) to see some amazing petra-glyphs (rock carvings) of llamas etc.
Rainbow valley itself might not possess all the colours of said rainbow, but it tries hard with amazing hues of green, blue, white and brown and some pretty impressive formations in the mudstone (Phoebe, of course, really appreciated the opportunity for the ad hoc geography lesson!).  Everywhere, mica, gypsum and salt glinted in the sun whilst the temperature was a very pleasant 15-20 degrees (which is VERY cold for everyone else here!).
To add to the charm, on the way out we espied our first llamas (including a very newly born one) and later a solitary guanaco, before being brought back to our hotel for an extremely healthy lunch (we hadn’t quite realised just how much we were missing the salads!

(Having yet to get to grips with the discipline needed to maintain a weblog - precisely the reasons why I declined from maintaining one in my last job - a few days later I return to edit this particular part).
In  the afternoon we went to the moon; well, we did if the local pundits are to be believed: we visited the Valle de la Lune, which as all the guides will impress on you is the area in which much of NASA's equipment has been tested (cue Phoebe to explain how in 'Creative thinking' at school they had to discuss whether the lunar landings had been genuine.  Actually, they could have been filmed here...in fact I am sure that the Mars landings will be, as the landscape is so alien...)  Yet more amazing scenery and rock formations and the privilege of being taken off the more beaten track and away from the crowds of other grockles to bet some really stunning views of the sunset - well, of the colours created on the mountains to East.  Incredible!

Wednesday August 17th

Time to leave Santiago. We have discovered that the house manager at the Embassy is called Macarena, and consequently want to stay and sing with her for ever..
However, a plane awaits us, and so back to the airport through the smog.
The air hostess convinced us that we COULD take our picnic and we would not be arrested for taking fruit and cheese on an internal flight so all was well..
What a view from that plane ! Stunning mountain ranges, snow and vast deserted plains..
Landing in to Calama was an event - a landing strip in the middle of the desert, just south of the huge chiquicima (?) copper mine, and a massey ferguson to transport our bags to the one reclaim belt.

An hour or so's drive through the desert - incredible scenery - salt formations, multi coloured rock, snow capped ex volcanos, and miles and miles of undulating, rippling, shadowy sand. Wonderful pleasant warmth and a steady breeze.
San Pedro de Atacama is the archetypal green blob in the middle of nowhere. How those travellers of old must have looked forward to seeing the change of colour on the horizon! It is a city made of mud and pebbles, with a white church made of cactus wood and adobe - the second oldest in Chile - 15/16th century.
Our lodge is whacky - adobe with wood burner and impressive showers. The stars are fabulous - the milky way is blinking at us and the southern cross stares out of the sky.
The adventures start tomorrow.

Tuesday August 16th

So today Bill had to sing for his supper - he spent the morning in the embassy finding out how to be the South American James Bond. When he finally emerged, we decided (the girls) that retail therapy was needed, and we jumped confidently on a couple of buses to find the artisan village of los Dominicos. Fun but touristy - chickens, peacocks, and an inordinate amount of cats. We looked at enough lapis lazula to last a lifetime, and admired more of those colourful cardigans loved by the chileans. Still haven't managed to convince Bill to buy one (just what you need for dress down Friday..) We had a wine tour booked at Aquitania, and decided to jump in a taxi. A tiny winery established by 3 frenchmen (including a Bollinger) and 1 Chilean, now producing some award winning wines. We shared a tour and some wine with two people from Rio, and felt confident that we could guess which bus might get us home. Mmm. After going round in circles for a while, we arrived on a bus going in roughly the right direction, and it fortuitously spat us out round the corner from the restaurant we had earmarked or supper.Hoorah.

Monday August 15th

We were invited to a real Chilean BBQ today! (asado) .The Defence Attache at the embassy, not knowing us, and consequently thinking we might be good company , had arranged for us to join his family at Rodrigo's home - a military colleague from the Chilean military engineering academy. Paddy and Margrit and their two boys (Chris at Durham, Alex awaiting A level results) drove us out into the countryside one hour south of Santiago to meet Rodrigo, Susan and their four girls. Rodrigo was not dissimilar to the men of the UK -I/C BBQ, lots of fanning and plates of meat - but the product was fabulous - chorizo sausage, smoked trout, a very upmarket type of chilean beef pasty, slabs of beef, and most important of all we were introduced to the pisco sour - a vodka-like spirit mixed with lemon juice, freshly squeezed - delicious. We finally swung home just in time to go out for an evening meal in the city. Great day.

Chile ! Sunday August 14th

Phoebe has stolen our thunder, but I shall try to find something to add. Fabulous to be away from the wind and snow. Gentle warm sunshine yesterday as we walked around Santiago. Managed to mime sufficiently well to buy a bip card - I think it's like an oyster card and seems to be working well. Our spanish was stretched when we tried to ask ' if each trip is approx 570 pesos in off peak and 650 pesos in peak, what happens on a bank holiday and how many trips can we make - is it cumulative or not?' Think waving arms, desperate facial expressions and lots of graciases..
Street entertainers everywhere which make wandering more fun. The remants from the student riots (they are unhappy about education provision) are everywhere - schools boarded up, piles of desks, and HUGE banners stretched across all sorts of buildings. But we have come across no trouble.
The cathedral was spectacular in a catholic over-the-top kind of a way. Lots of glitz and paint and fake (what is it with fake flowers and catholic churches?) flowers. Although actually they had augmented them and decorated beautifully with fresh lilies and gladioli for the festival.  
The museum was, as we had been told, fascinating. It focuses on history pre -european influence. Ceramics which were alternately whimsical and primitive, and delicate and fine. Lots of beautiful artefacts to accompany the dead into the next world. Fun bottles in the shape of animals, whistles in the shape of birds and lizards.. The textiles were cleverly displayed, alongside the tools that were used, and some explanation and diagrams of how to weave/sew to achieve the particular result. Very fine intricate work - weaving in some cases with paddles only an inch or so across.
A room full of huge wooden statues (think wooden easter island statues) which were used as 'mourners' at funerals - moved around to stand at your funeral to ensure everything was done properly, and the spirits would not be unhappy. 
Wandered home through artisan markets and via the house of Pablo Neruda - Chile's famous poet. 
Off to a local restaurant last night - busy busy and fun.
Sleep !    G x

Saturday 13th August

Off to Chile!

We set off to Mount Pleasant airport mid-afternoon,(only five minutes drive) and were pleased to be informed that the flight was running an hour ahead of time. So, after waiting comfortably in the CBF's lounge, we got onto the plane. The first flight was only an hour and a half long, and felt as though it whizzed by.

However, halfway through the next four hour flight, one of the air-hostesses needed a doctor, meaning that we had to make an emergency landing. Once we had landed, we were then told(in Spanish!) that we needed to wait another two hours for another plane from Santiago to arrive so that we would have the correct amount of air-hostesses. Finally, at 24:50-ten to one in the morning, the Santiago plane arrived and we finished the rest of the flight.
In Santiago, we got a taxi at 3:30am to the embassy flat where we are staying.

Today, after a long sleep, we walked into the center of the city, and went into the markets, museum, and cathedral, which was all prepared for the religious bank holiday tomorrow with flowers(artificial), and banners.

In the museum, there were various artifacts which were mostly ancient pottery, woven cloth, and little figurines sculpted out of either gold, copper, pottery, cloth, or wood. They were all very primitive even though, in England, it was the time of Henry VIII! 

In the textiles area, there were woven cloth, straw dolls, embroidery, needles made from cacti spikes. My favourite was a piece of cloth with embroidered lizards on, and the lizard head stuck out of the cloth.

Later on, we went to a cafe, another market, and then we got a bus back to the flat where we all had baths!

By Phoebe

Bertha's Beach on Thursday 11th August

Today, after our trip to Fox Bay being cancelled due to the Helicopters, we drove down to Bertha's Beach after lunch. On the way, we saw Black Necked swans, and, as you can imagine, they are white with a black neck and head, and usually only found on the Falklands, or South America.

We walked for about 35 minutes, crossing ponds and streams seeing some very large Mullet jumping out of the water, and watching the Upland geese and the sheep. Then, we finally we saw lots of black and white blobs. As we got closer, we saw that they were Gentoo Penguins up in the marshy moorland beyond the sand dunes. They didn't seem frightened at all, even when we were about 5 metres away!! Only after about 15 minutes of having their photos taken, did they turn around, flapping their wings, and waddle away, as you can see in the picture. 

On the way back to the beach, we saw another colony of Gentoos, more Upland Geese, and back on the beach, we saw our first ever Flightless Steamer Ducks. There were also some Two Banded Plovers, and Oyster Catchers. Then we saw some dolphins, porpoises, and seals playing in the water, and a big black bird which was either a Shearwater, baby Albatross(?) or a Petrel.

Tonight, we are having yet another dinner-party for the Governor, some Islanders, and some new people to Mount Pleasant. All the snow has gone now, and has left slush, and puddles everywhere!

By Phoebe xxx

Sunday August 7th

What weather ! Justin, the met man from down the road, had warned that Thursday night would be exciting, and as a result the airbridge to UK was brought forward to miss the storm, but in the event the snow appeared on Friday afternoon. By the evening, we were not able to open the front door because of the wind, and by Saturday, we had 3-4 feet of drifting in front of the house.

The dogs were not put off -Archie loves the snow and galloped madly (or he could have been trying to chase an upland goose). Finn has found a new enthusiasm for the outdoors now that we have equipped him with his 'hotter dog' jumper -a fleece which has legs for his front paws, and fits right round his tummy!

Have a look for the upland goose on the net - they marry for life, bless them, and wander around in pairs, chatting to each other. They are quite differnt though - the male is white and grey, and the female brown and chestnut, with yellow legs. Archie inevitably has decided their pooh is similar to foie gras. 

We have the Governer Governor (which is it??) coming to dinner on Thursday, and a guy who lectures on the Falklands war, so that should be interesting.
Last night was the mess dinner for Bill's 'dining in'. Over 100 attended, and it was a good night  - some of the young officers were determined to let their hair down, and there were huge roars of approval when Bill deigned to join in the mexican wave which they were desperately trying to move around the entire hall...

Today, our helicopter trip was sadly cancelled - a problem with the fuel - but we are off on a couple of trips this week. We are flying to Fox Bay , and taking the Gov (no problem with the spelling now!) with us. Apparently they are preparing CAKES. GOOD !

Must sign off now and venure into the kitchen. Sunday is my day without a chef, and I need extra time to find where he has hidden everything.

Enjoy your sunshine if you are in the UK. We are not jealous..

 

10 days in!

Hello all ! We will all add bits and pieces as we can , to keep you up to date during our stay in the South Atlantic. These first few days may be rather random as we find our feet, but hopefully we will give you a flavour of our life.
So far, we have got to know the familiar green and brown buildings with uninspiring names and architecture, which make up Mount Pleasant Complex. Not on a mount, and not very pleasant really, but it's not all bad.

Our house is a bungalow, very cosy and warm, and with a great team who arrive before 7am and look after us all day. I feel like a victorian housekeeper and can no longer lounge in bed but have to be up and look busy! Gone are the days of singing loudly in the kitchen as we made a huge gooey mess.
I thnnk we must be a trial to our housekeeper who is having to cope with this strange family who have arrived with children and animals to mess up her previously spotless domain.

The complex has great facilities as you would expect - gyms, swimming pool, bowling alley, cinema - but is short on retail therapy; one dodgy NAAFI with largely empty shelves. The 'supermarket' (think small town co-op on a bad day) is 36 miles away along a gravel road in interesting weather.

I am off to the Master Driver's Winter training on Saturday so that Phoebe and I can single handedly skid through mud and ice and change landrover tyres.

We have so far visited the metropolis of Stanley, as Phoebe said - a cross between the Waltons and County Galway gives you the flavour  - and Bertha's Beach, which was stunning, with white sand and snow, and crashing waves.

Today we have driven past Goose Green and on up to Darwen which is beautiful - frozen lakes, moorland, and snow capped mountains in the distance. We saw the argentine cemetary, and the spot where H Jones fell. There are memorials everywhere, and plenty of locals to tell you exactly how it was in 1982 .

We hope to go to Bleaker island on Sunday - weather dependant!

We have arrived!

We arrived down in the Falklands last week after the long flight,to find that it was snowing.(We have made a snowman)We have also already visited places such as Stanley(the capital city), and Darwin: consisting of 5 houses, and loads of chickens and sheep. On the way, we saw a Caracara bird(and a lot of sheep!)Then, we went needle felting there, and discovered that you can go to do wet felting, spinning, weaving, and dying. We both made felt penguins; mine with an iceberg and a bow-tie, and mummy's was a rockhopper/king which went with a felt fish that she also made.